Well Suited Read online

  Which was why we would make an excellent team.

  So long as we kept all the riffraff out of the picture.

  That evening, after work, I walked toward the subway, in the direction of the Village where Theo lived, just a few streets away from my place. Well, really, it was Amelia’s place. Her parents had bought it as an investment property when we were in college, gutted and renovated it, and let us all live there for practically nothing.

  I wondered, as I had many, many times, what would happen to the house. Rin was on the Upper East with her fiancé, who was the heir to an obscene fortune and curator at The Met. Val was all but living with Sam a few blocks away, his money not only his, but accrued from his wealthy, intellectual parents. And Amelia was married to a famous writer, the same one who employed Theo, his twin, to run his business for him.

  And with me moving in with him, the house would be empty.

  I hated the thought of it empty.

  As much as I would prefer Theo move in with me, I knew it was impossible. Not only was the property not mine to claim, but Theo helped take care of his mother, who had rapidly progressing Parkinson’s. She needed him. And the house I’d lived in for years, I supposed, would return to the hands of Amelia’s parents for sale or rental.

  The thought made me uncomfortable. But change always did.

  And this week seemed to be full of it.

  I sighed against my discomfort, flowing west with the stream of people leaving Bryant Park for the subway. My speech had been prepared along with a list of rules and requirements I had. I’d written it longhand, watched each precisely written letter form, and the effect, as anticipated, was committed to memory. But I was uneasy regardless.

  I knew my friends and could gauge their reactions in advance. But Theo was largely an enigma to me. I had no idea his thoughts or reactions, no context for how he would accept or reject my requirements. My upper hand was in my steadfast stubbornness, and I knew I could rely on that to maintain my boundaries.

  I’d cross my fingers, if I believed in magic.

  The subway was packed, the scent of metal and bodies and the combating aromas of various street foods an assault on my senses. But I controlled even those with the help of noise-canceling headphones and a book to use as blinders. I had Vicks in my bag too, just in case the smell was too much.

  I was nothing if not prepared.

  Jane Eyre was as brilliant as it had been the other eighteen times I read it. It made for excellent subway reading. I knew every word, so nothing was lost, only a replay of events in comforting repetition. By the time I exited the train, Jane was on her way to Thornfield Hall, and my task lay before me.

  The declaration of acceptance I was about to give would shift the course of my life almost as deeply as Thornfield Hall would for Jane. It was acknowledgment and action of the imperceptibly magnanimous change that the child would bring. And though I knew it was inevitable, part of me—a large, loud part—wasn’t ready.

  But I had eight weeks to warm to the idea. With some time and patience, I believed I could do it.

  If nothing else, I believed I could make myself do it. And that was enough for me.

  I stood for a fortifying moment on his stoop, reciting my list once again for good measure. And then I knocked.

  The door opened almost immediately, the doorway framing the imposing sight of Theodore Bane.

  He was all darkness, from his seemingly black eyes and hair, the cut of his hard jaw and the exactly masculine proportions of his olive face. The only light was behind his eyes, a spark of mirth that found its way into the corner of his mouth as it rose.

  “Kate. You came.”

  My head tilted in confusion. “I told you I would.”

  A soft chuckle. “So you did. Please, come in.”

  I detected something in his voice, nerves perhaps. A touch of disbelief, which confounded me. If I said I’d do something, I did it without wavering. I reminded myself he didn’t know me, which oddly made me feel both better and worse.

  When I passed him, I caught his scent again, crisp and clean and familiar. My salivary glands opened up and let loose.

  The door closed behind me, and when my bag was hanging on a hook in the entry, I felt his hands on my shoulders, hooking my jacket to help me out of it.

  I swore, I’d know those hands in the dark, a thought that surprised and intrigued me.

  “Thank you for seeing me this afternoon,” I said as he hung my jacket.

  “I’m glad you’re here.”

  The purpose of my visit niggled aggressively at my mind, and so, without pretending pleasantries, I got to it.

  “I would like to discuss the arrangement you proposed. After giving it some thought—”

  He turned on his heel, his face composed but tight at the edges—his eyes, his lips, his jaw. “Before you say no, hear me out.”

  I opened my mouth to inform him I wasn’t planning on saying no, but I didn’t have the chance.

  He took me by the arm to guide me into the house, launching into a speech he seemed to have prepared as devoutly as I had mine.

  “I know how crazy this all is, no matter how logical it seems. But I want to show you around, let you get a feel for things before you decide. Will you let me?”

  I made the mistake of looking up at him as we headed for the stairs, and for a moment, I was caught by surprise. I searched for the line delineating his pupil from his iris, leaning in when I couldn’t discern the two. It was exquisite, the velvety black, the bottomless depth. There—I caught his pupil dilate, the motion indicating that edge I’d been looking for but couldn’t find.

  I noted his worry, and the knowledge that this meant so much to him struck me in a soft place in my chest.

  “Of course,” was the only answer I could give.

  Relief softened his face, and up the stairs we went.

  “I wanted you to see the setup upstairs. We knew I’d be living with Ma for the foreseeable future, and she insisted I make a separate space for myself. I thought she was crazy. In fact, I’ve never cooked in my kitchen, not once. My guest bedroom has never been used. But that’s a mom for you. They know things.”

  I made a noncommittal sound.

  When we reached the landing, he didn’t let my arm go, and I couldn’t find it in me to care. It was strong, secure, reliable. Everything in his touch spoke of dependability.

  “We can put in a door at the top of the stairs for more privacy. The living room is here, the kitchen over there. My room is there, and your room is back here. Come on, I’ll show you.”

  I took a second to look around as he towed me nervously through his place. The space was open and inviting, the big windows at the back of the house letting in buttery light through sheer curtains. The kitchen was small but cozy with a table for four that boasted a pot brimming with succulents and two place mats. The surfaces were pristine, light and airy without being feminine at all. Everything I saw was neat and orderly, clean and uncluttered.

  I found I liked it very much.

  We passed a room on the way to the one I would inhabit, which I thought he might be saving for last. I caught a glimpse of a desk and bookshelves and assumed it was his office, which he’d mentioned would become the baby’s room.

  The place where that baby currently resided did a curious flip at the prospect.

  We stepped into the guest room, and I was instantly hit with an uncommon sense of rightness.

  My mother would have attributed it to feng shui or the direction of the windows or the placement of the bed in conjunction with the chair and dresser. But I believed it was more than that. It was a flame in my ribs that told me this was a step. This was a doorway. This was tangible movement toward my future.

  My throat closed, clamped shut by unfamiliar emotion.

  Damn hormones. Damn them all, every one of them.

  As I swallowed to try to dislodge the lump in my esophagus, Theo chattered nervously, avoiding eye contact. Every time I tried to spe
ak, he’d cut me off to explain some more as he showed me the space, pointing out its features like a real estate agent. There was no emotion in his explanations, only logic, as if he knew that would be the only applicable argument.

  I watched and listened, letting him say what he needed to while I fought my feelings down. He was so concerned, so worried I would say no. I thought about his past. He’d never known his father, and now he was going to become one.

  And here I was, the vehicle for his hopes and dreams. I held the power to take all that away from him, and he was afraid I would. He was afraid I’d cut him out, I realized. He was afraid to lose his child.

  In that moment, with Theo regaling details about the plumbing, my needs became secondary. My discomfort and apprehension quieted, replaced by concern for him. Because if the tables were turned, I would have the same fears. And I knew right then that I wouldn’t be a part of his pain. I’d already decided to move in. But that was the first moment I wasn’t afraid of doing it.

  “Theodore,” I started gently, not trusting my voice.

  “Hang on, Kate. One more thing.”

  The use of my nickname made me sigh, but I found myself smiling despite the annoyance. He was perhaps the only person in the world that could call me Kate and not incite violence.

  He snagged my hand and pulled me back into the hallway, pushing open the door to his office.

  “And this will be the baby’s room. Imagine it, Kate. We’ll move the bookshelves, put the crib over there,” he said with a gesture to the far wall. “An armchair and footstool there, in the corner, and a changing table here. It’s right across the hall from you, but I’ll be just on the other side of the house for anything you need. We can take shifts at night so you won’t have to do it all alone. We can decorate it however you want, anything you want.”

  He paused, shifted, stood before me, a pillar of strength and protection. And perhaps it was my delicate state, but I wanted to wrap myself up in the feeling and drift away on its eddies.

  “Kate,” he said, a single, soft syllable, “I know it’s a lot. A little wild, a little insane. But it’s not irresponsible. Please, let me do this with you. Please, don’t do it alone. I want you both here with me, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make it work. I just need you to give me the chance.”

  Fear flickered behind his black eyes when I finally parted my lips to speak.

  “I came over today to say yes,” I said with a smile. “I’ll move in with you.”

  The sweetest expression passed across his face, a mixture of relief and elation, though it was contained. He was contained, though the latent energy in him reached through the slim space between us. His smile tilted into a smirk, his eyes shining with excitement.

  “You let me take you all through the house when you were going to say yes anyway?”

  “I tried to tell you, but you wouldn’t let me answer.”

  His laugh was little more than a puff of air. “I’m surprised you didn’t force your hand anyway.”

  I shrugged, though my cheeks warmed. “It was important to you, so it was important to me.”

  The spark in his eyes smoldered.

  But before he could comment, I spoke again. “I have some perimeters though.”

  He nodded, that smirk ticking higher. “I’d be shocked if you didn’t.”

  “The first is the most relevant—I won’t move in until after my first trimester. Once into the second trimester, the odds for complications decrease dramatically. Before we make any major changes, I’d like to be through that statistic.”

  After a moment of indecision, he said, “All right. Plus, it will give us some time to get to know each other better.”

  I frowned. Not because he was wrong, but because it sounded suspiciously like dating. “I had the same thought. But I’d like to reiterate that I am not interested in being involved romantically. Things are complicated enough. I’d like to keep them as simple as possible. Introducing too many variables at once will make it impossible to track when issues arise.”

  “So we’re entering into a grand experiment?” he asked without even a hint of heat.

  “Not an experiment, but a controlled environment. There’s plenty we won’t be able to control, so why not keep the boundaries in place where we can?”

  “Kate, I’ll take you any way I can get you. You tell me the rules, and I will abide by them.” His hand slipped around my waist, his body inching closer. “But if you change your mind—”

  “I won’t,” I breathed, not believing the words any more than he seemed to.

  “You are an anomaly in my universe, and ignoring that fact is a testament to my devotion. I won’t break the rules. But I hope you do. If anything changes, just say the word. Deal?”

  My brain fired a thousand nerves at once, the scent of him drawing me closer without my will. My body, it seemed, was beyond my control. He was so close, I had to tip my chin to keep my eyes on his.

  I could lose myself in his eyes, like a black hole. He’d stretch me to infinity, and I’d die happy.

  Somehow, I found myself. I stepped back. Extended my hand. Squared my shoulders.

  “Deal,” I said.

  And he took my hand, which disappeared in the expanse of his. He shook it once, then tugged, pulling me into his arms. They wrapped around me like a velvet cage, and for a moment, I closed my eyes and breathed him in. Ignored the musings of his effect on me in exchange for the comfort.

  He pressed a kiss into my hair. “It’s gonna be good, Kate. You’ll see.”

  And I smiled. Because he didn’t need to show me.

  I already knew.

  7

  Brilliantly Beige

  Theo

  I didn’t want to let her go. But I did.

  My relief was palpable, settling over me like a balm after days of scratchy nerves.

  She’d said yes. When I looked down into her determined little face, I couldn’t stop myself from capturing her chin in my thumb and forefinger.

  “We have eight weeks to get to know each other before you move in. I have a proposition.”

  The slightest frown touched her lips, her chin flexing against my thumb. “I haven’t finished relaying my rules.”

  I chuckled and let her go, stepping back to give her space. I hitched a leg on the surface of my desk as I sat. “All right. You first.”

  She cleared her throat, stretching to her full height. Her back was as straight as a ruler. “I require certain levels of solitude and privacy. If my door is closed, that indicates I am not open to conversation. I’ll leave it cracked, if not open, if I’m available.”

  I nodded, tamping down my smile.

  “I would like to share financial burdens as well. My portion of the rent. Groceries. Baby supplies.”

  “That might prove complicated. First, there is no rent. We can thank Tommy for that. Groceries we buy and have delivered, and I cook our meals. Splitting that up seems unnecessary.”

  “I’d like to try all the same. Just provide receipts, and I’ll do the math. For your approval, of course.”

  I sighed. “If you insist.”

  A curt nod. “I insist.”

  “And baby…supplies—that’s also up to you. If it makes you happy, then we’ll do that too.”

  “It would. There are two more things, both of which are difficult to quantify.” Her face pinched, as if she were having trouble trying to figure out just what to say. “Regarding our relationship beyond the embryo, I would like to keep certain boundaries in place, as discussed. It’s very…difficult to retain balance when you invade my personal space. I believe it’s due to your pheromones. They’re particularly potent.”

  I pursed my lips and bit down hard to stifle laughter. Clearing my throat helped. “You smell good, too. I’ll admit, it’s hard not to invade your personal space. But I’ll do my best.”

  “Thank you. And the other point is the level of our relationship in general. I would like to become friends, Theodore. It would
benefit our child and make rearing it easier if we respected one another.”

  Friends. It sounded blatantly, painfully offensive from her mouth.

  “Fair enough,” I said rather than agree. Even that tasted sour.

  She sighed, smiling her relief.

  “Now, it’s my turn.”

  Instantly, she tensed again.

  “I would like to agree to seeing each other once per week prior to you moving in. That’s eight opportunities to cultivate our…friendship.”

  “Seven opportunities. The eighth, I’ll be moving in.”

  “I stand corrected. We can decide at a later date, if you’d prefer.”

  After a split second of consideration, she said, “Yes, let’s decide later. I’ve scheduled my first appointment with the obstetrician in two weeks. Let’s begin our weekly meetings then. There, I’ll receive a full pelvic exam, and the doctor will locate the embryo’s heartbeat. We should have sonogram pictures afterward, too. It’ll only look like a staticky blob, but better that than being able to distinguish its tail.”

  A laugh escaped me. “All right. Let me know the date and time, and I’ll make it work. Can we ride together?”

  “If you’d like.”

  “I’d like.”

  Another perfunctory nod. “All right. As always, it’s been a pleasure doing business with you, Theodore.”

  She didn’t offer her hand, which I mourned. But, after her comment about my pheromones and her personal space, I figured it was a precautionary measure.

  In fairness, I didn’t know how I’d resist her pheromones either. So, I’d give her the distance she’d asked for regardless of how I hated it. Every molecule in my body wanted to invade the eighteen inches of air around her.

  But I wouldn’t. Not until she asked.

  And she’d ask. Once I proved myself, once she figured out how she felt, she’d ask.

  Until then, I’d stay thirsty and pray.

  “Want to stay for dinner?” I asked, hoping I’d schooled the hope in my voice. “My mom really wants to meet you, and Tommy and Amelia will be there.”